


Glories of the Year

by thegreatpumpkin



Series: A Heart Can't Be Helped [6]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, fluff with absolutely no angst, psychic twins, who are you and what have you done with thegreatpumpkin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7642174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/pseuds/thegreatpumpkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing older isn't such a hardship. The twins turn thirty, and Elrohir reflects on the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt from belegsghost: E/E+birthday, anniversary or other celebration (whatever 'verse you choose) 
> 
> Set in Fall 2015. This is sheer, candy-coated, fluffy marshmallow fluff. I feel very apologetic about it but hey, if they don't get to be happy on their birthday, when do they?
> 
> (Title is from "The Summons," a poem by Julia Ward Howe which I discovered via Tyellas' fic [Make the Autumn Precious](http://www.ansereg.com/make_the_autumn_precious.htm). It's a pretty great poem for title inspiration, for autumn birthdays, and for twinshipping.)

Elrohir made his way muzzily into the living room, drawn on by the smell of something cooking, and slid onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. He drowsed as he watched Elladan’s back at the stove; Elladan hummed quietly, aware of his presence but absorbed in what he was doing. It was peaceful.

Eventually, Elrohir woke up enough to realize two things: first, they were now officially a year older, and second, it was Friday. “Wait, why aren’t you at work?”

Elladan grinned at him over one shoulder. “Playing hooky.”

Warmth filled his chest. “For you, or for me?”

“Six of one. I get a long weekend, you get breakfast that’s not Pop-Tarts, happy birthday to everyone.” Elladan turned around now, leaning across the counter to give him a quick smooch. “Wow, thirty’s looking a little rough on you,” he teased, smoothing down Elrohir’s wild bedhead.

Elrohir stuck his tongue out, and Elladan caught it between his first and middle knuckles and tugged playfully.

“Athing lyfe a thial—” Elrohir paused and shoved him away with a laugh. “Ahem, _acting_ like a _child_ doesn’t make you look any younger, if that’s what you’re aiming for. What’s on the menu?” He caught sight of the open loaf of bread and the egg mixture beside it—french toast, apparently—and managed to catch himself before making a face. He didn’t want to ruin a genuine gesture of affection. Even if it was a little misguided, and involved bread fried in egg.

Elladan glanced back, following his eyes, then laughed. “The french toast is for me, I know you don’t want any. I’ve got—” he flipped open the waffle iron, which Elrohir hadn’t even realized was turned on, and levered a waffle out of it carefully— “banana waffles for you.” He poured some more batter in and shut the lid again. Then he seemed to realize something, beaming suddenly at Elrohir. “Oh my god, you were going to be so gracious about it, you sweet thing.”

“Well, you made me breakfast, beggars can’t be choosers.” Elrohir offered, sheepishly.

“It’s your birthday, you’re no beggar today.” Elladan returned to the french toast, dredging another piece of bread.

“Implying I am normally?”

“Well, since I get to hear you beg on the regular…” He dropped it in the pan with a satisfying _splat_.

“Only because I know how much you get off on it. Is that what you want for _your_ birthday?” Elrohir grinned. “Since you apparently have the day free?”

Elladan started to shake his head, then paused, laughed, changed tack. “Well, okay, I mean I _do_. But I actually, um...I had a day planned. If you’re up for it.”

That sounded intriguing. “Depends, I guess. What did you want to do?”

“Well, it’s kind of a surprise. Or a few surprises. Nothing we’re committed to, though,” he added quickly. “If you’re not in the mood.”

Elladan’s idea of fun didn’t always match Elrohir’s, and even when it did, he tended to just be getting started when Elrohir was ready to be done. Elrohir considered for a moment, uncertain, until Elladan set the plate of waffles in front of him.

He couldn’t help smiling down at the plate. They might have different ideas about...well, everything, really, but Elladan knew him as well as he knew Elladan, right down to his feelings about things fried in egg. If Elladan had planned a surprise, Elrohir could trust it was done with what he actually liked in mind.

“Okay, yeah,” he said warmly, scraping an obscene amount of butter onto each waffle. “Let’s do it. Tell me what shoes to wear. Do I dress up or down?”

Elladan’s face lit up at his agreement, and that was almost a gift in itself.

~

Elrohir thought, rolled in an impromptu blanket burrito beneath the stars (not that you see could very many of them, what with the lights), that this might have been his favorite birthday so far.

A day like this normally would have exhausted him, but Elladan had been mindful of his needs—they’d been out of the house and busy, but nothing had required Elrohir to be _too_ terribly social. They’d gone to an early movie, then hit up the food trucks on Georgia street for lunch. After that a tour of the City Market Catacombs (“walking shoes and dress down” had been the answer to Elrohir’s sartorial question) and dinner with the family at a reasonably nice restaurant (meaning, in this case, nice enough to have a few menu items named in French, but not nice enough to have any sort of implied dress code). It had been a series of small, pleasant surprises; Elladan wouldn’t tell him where they were going until they got there, and he hadn’t told him they were meeting anyone until he’d caught sight of Estel watching for them outside the restaurant.

At dinner, Elladan had been very clear with the waiter that while they did want a slice of birthday cake for the occasion, there was to be absolutely no singing or otherwise drawing attention to their table. Elrohir didn’t exactly have words for the relief and pleasure of not having to insist on that himself, and even if he had, they probably wouldn’t have been words he could say in front of their parents and Estel. Instead, he touched two fingers to the base of his throat, as subtly as he could.

Elladan understood precisely what he meant.

They were finishing the evening here, with live music in the park. One local band Elladan knew they both enjoyed, and a few Elrohir hadn’t heard of before, but who were turning out to be pleasant if nothing life-changing. They’d spread out one blanket on the grass, and brought another—which Elrohir had rolled himself up in now that it was completely dark. Summer hadn’t quite let go yet, but it was starting to get cooler at night. Elladan had offered to get him a sweatshirt out of the car, but Elrohir was content like this and absolutely unbothered by looking silly.

Elladan sat upright on the other blanket, wrapped up in a hoodie and watching the band. In the dark, he’d put his hand out so it was partially obscured under the corner of Elrohir’s blanket; it looked accidental, like he was just propping himself up, but when Elrohir had reached out and brushed his fingers questioningly, he’d seized Elrohir’s hand and held onto it. He probably wouldn’t have dared if it had been any brighter, but it turned out the spot they’d picked for their blanket was in a stripe of shadow. He was now rubbing his thumb over Elrohir’s knuckles, idly, affectionately—Elrohir could not have been more content.

“Oh, hey,” he said suddenly, remembering something. He managed to wiggle his arms free of the blanket, just enough to sit up. “I have something for you.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, you know we don’t do gifts.” Elladan didn’t seem too serious in his protest, though, watching him curiously as he dug in a side pocket of the cooler bag.

“Yeah, like today didn’t count as a gift?” Elrohir scoffed, grinning as he pulled out a flat, square box. “Don’t worry, it’s dumb and sentimental and it didn’t cost me anything.”

“Is it macaroni art?” Elladan took it and tore off the paper, giving him a cheeky smile back. “I bet it’s macaroni art. I wondered where all our pasta went.”

He lifted off the box lid to reveal a burned CD; Elrohir had labeled it DOUBLE TROUBLE in purple and green Sharpie, surrounded by a spiky word bubble. “Oh my god. Is this what I think it is?!”

Elrohir had been half-worried he wouldn’t like it, or wouldn’t remember, but his expression soothed those fears. “Only if you think it’s every single episode we made of our pretend radio show.” Elladan laughed like a maniac, absolutely delighted, and Elrohir beamed. “I found the tapes in some stuff Mom gave me to go through. I thought you’d appreciate them. You were always _so_ into it.”

“Yeah, and I usually had to beg you to do them with me.” They had been thirteen, looking for something to do with the seemingly endless freedom of summer break. Elladan was nursing a very short-lived dream at the time of being an MTV VJ—back when that was still a _thing_ —and since they weren’t allowed to use the camcorder unsupervised, he decided to dig out Celebrían’s old tape deck and made a radio show instead.

“I don’t even remember why now, I just remember never wanting to.” Elrohir shook his head, still smiling. “Joke was on me, though, you can pretty much tell by like thirty seconds into each one that I’ve forgotten I’m sulking and started having fun too.”

_You always have fun when we’re together._ Elladan wasn’t teasing him; it was a simple statement of fact. Or maybe something more than that. A declaration, a greater truth hidden behind the words: _things are the way they should be when we’re together._ Or even simpler: _we belong together._

“Can we cut out early? I’m ready to head home,” Elrohir said out loud, thinking _I want to kiss you so badly right now_ at the same time, and not bothering to keep the observation to himself.

_Do you? Hmm. Better pack up fast, or I might not wait until we get home,_ Elladan answered, beaming across at him. He wouldn’t dare, not even in a dark car with no one around, but Elrohir’s stomach swooped giddily anyway. Aloud, Elladan said, “Beat the rush out of the parking lot? Sure.” And then, eyeing the CD again with delight— “I know what we’re listening to in the car.”

Streetlights striped the darkness inside the car as they headed back to the apartment. Despite the cool air, crickets and treefrogs still filled the night with sound that seeped softly through the cracked-open windows; it was an appropriate soundtrack for their goofy younger selves, more summer than fall.

Thirteen-year-old Elrohir was talking about traveling, and how he was maybe going to live in Germany for a while, or Switzerland. Thirteen-year-old Elladan was joking that they could probably just share a passport, and insisting that he wasn’t going to be left behind. If Elrohir was moving across the globe, he’d better make sure there was room for both of them.

Thirty-year-old Elrohir wondered why, even when he’d been at his most desperate for some sign of Elladan’s affection, he’d never realized that _you can’t go without me_ meant _I love you too._ Just like waffles and unexpected vacation days. Just like tiny surprises, and blankets on the grass, and careful consideration of the requirements of introversion.

Elladan almost never said it outright. He’d deflect, or talk around it, or just accept Elrohir’s saying it as if it could be assumed to cover the both of them. Elrohir had thought it was an effect of the guilt, some final holdout of reserve even as he’d come willing into this, but he’d begun to realize it was just Elladan’s style to choke on soft words and find harder ones to serve the same purpose.

Speaking of choking on words, their teenaged selves were now talking about _girls_ , Elladan pressing him about which ones he thought were hot, Elrohir giving evasive non-answers. He felt a sudden swell of sympathy for little Elrohir, as if he were a different person—that was before he’d come out, even to Elladan, and definitely before either of them had acknowledged what was between them. He wished he could speak to his younger self across the years, reassure him about everything that had been going on then. He wondered what he’d say. _You’ll lose some friends when you come out, but they weren’t really your friends. Mom and Dad are more supportive than you’ll ever imagine. There’s no feeling in the world like the first time you watch Elladan get up in someone’s face because they yelled a slur at you._

He glanced across at Elladan, and Elladan glanced back, giving him the sort of warm, dazzling smile that could stop his heart.

Or maybe just this reassurance for thirteen-year-old Elrohir, struggling with everything: _He loves you too. And someday, you’re going to know it._


	2. EPILOGUE

_ELLADAN: Goooooooood morning, Noblesville! I’m Elladan—_

_[long pause]_

_ELROHIR: [sigh] And I’m Elrohir—_

_ELLADAN AND ELROHIR: [together] And you’re listening to DOUBLE TROUBLE!_

_ELLADAN: That’s right, the only radio show in the country with twin DJs!_

_ELROHIR: Did you actually check to see if that was true?_

_ELLADAN: I’m sure it is, how likely are there to be two sets of twins who both want to be radio show hosts?_

_ELROHIR: There’s not even ONE set._

_ELLADAN: Exactly. Wait, what? Come on, you said you’d do this!_

_ELROHIR: I didn’t say I’d do it without complaining._

_ELLADAN: Come on, I told you I’d take your week for dishes!_

_ELROHIR: AND leave me alone when I want to read._

_ELLADAN: And leave you alone when you want to read. You always say you’re the good twin, so prove it already._

_ELROHIR: Fine. [pause] Double Trouble, episode one, take two!_

_ELLADAN: This is supposed to be live._

_ELROHIR: [pause] Okay, let’s go to commercial break then._

_…_

_ELROHIR: Our theme today is history. For you listeners at home, Elladan’s pretending to fall asleep, but history is actually really interesting! For instance, the history of this show._

_ELLADAN: It went through a lot of changes to get here!_

_ELROHIR: Name changes, especially. We considered In It to Twin It—_

_ELLADAN: The Twinning Number—_

_ELROHIR: Double Your Pleasure—_

_ELLADAN AND ELROHIR: [aside, in unison] Ew._

_ELROHIR: Before finally deciding on Double Trouble. You’re welcome, listeners. Just think, it could have been a lot worse._

_ELLADAN: It’s kinda funny, actually, since Elrohir never gets IN trouble._

_ELROHIR: But that’s okay, because Elladan never gets OUT! Badum-tish._

_ELLADAN: Did you just make your own drum sound effect? REALLY?_

_ELROHIR: That’s right, folks, we’re on a shoestring budget here. Things are so tight we had to fire the sound guy and make our own noises._

_[BOTH BOYS LAUGH]_

_…_

_ELLADAN: So the way Leofric tells it, Elrohir’s drowning in girlfriends. You want to weigh in on that, Ro?_

_ELROHIR: What? No. That’s not—I have friends who are girls. Some of them are._

_ELLADAN: Well, it’s a start. I’m sure our listeners want to know which one you have your eye on. Rían? She’s pretty cute._

_ELROHIR: We don’t actually have listeners, you know._

_ELLADAN: Dodging the question. Is it Meren?_

_ELROHIR: Quit it, they’re my FRIENDS._

_ELLADAN: Fine, okay, but surely there’s someone at school you think is hot._

_[long pause]_

_ELLADAN: [sounding far away] Come on, I was just asking! Come back, we’ll make a whole episode about the Fox Wars if you want to, or something else historical and boring like that…_

_[recording ends]_


End file.
